SeeD of My Affection
by Chamomile Pool
Summary: The brooms aren't the only thing sweeping Yen Sid off his feet. YenxLeon.


It is such a terribly cold night, made all the colder by the loneliness in my heart. All I have here to keep me warm are my books, and to that end, I've more than once considered setting fire to them all. There is a dreadful draft at the top of my tower, but I fear the real coldness is inside my heart.

I don't mean to be this way, of course, but when one lives a solitary lifestyle for as many years as I have, habits do begin to form. When he entered my tower, I could have so easily have driven him away. I puffed myself up, walked with pride in my finest robes, and was quick to show him my vast knowledge—but he saw through it and saw into my heart.

He was a young stud, strong and ambitious. That much was clear by how he had sought me out. He had successfully completed his education at the Balamb Garden Military Academy, and he wrote to me soon after his graduation with the intention of learning beyond even the scope of that fine establishment. "I need to learn from the best," he wrote in beautiful, whimsical cursive. "But even more than learning new magic, I need guidance from someone who has seen the darkness of this world and has remained on top. I need a mentor."

A _mentor_. Ah, there's no count to the amount of letters I've received and the amount of people who have wanted me to be their _mentor_. Little did I know that what he meant by _mentor_ would soon evolve into something much greater, much more intimate, much more beautiful. My first reaction to him, as like my cold nature, was disdain.

He was an impudent boy. He studied well the major spells, but he knew little of how to put them into place. He acted so tough and so unmoved, even when I was teaching him the most startling of truths about the nature of the worlds. Leon was cold, and he was aloof. Ah, was he ever so aloof…

"I didn't come here for lectures," he said, running his fingers through his hair.

"Then what _did_ you come for?" I asked him, with anger rising in my voice.

He turned aside, and as he turned, I saw him smirk. It was a beautiful smirk. Those youthful lips of his curled upward in such a bold, defiant way. He turned his back to me and put his hands on his hips. He was facing the door out of my study.

"And here I thought you knew _everything_," Leon teased.

I did not know what to say in reply. He was right, of course, but I was too insecure to admit it—I knew all the secrets of the worlds and of the forces of light and darkness and the forces in between, but I did not know _him_.

Days passed, and I could tell that we needed a break from the reading and lecturing. I had him engage in some target practice. We went down to a hidden area below the tower, and I commanded wooden flying discs to move about the expansive cavern.

"Watch this," he said.

And I did. He unsheathed his gunblade and smiled at me. He was so _arrogant_. He charged up the weapon and fired from its edge a fireball, and the fireball engulfed one of my discs. He spun around and shot another three times, and each fireball struck another disc.

"Most impressive for a beginner," I said, stroking my beard.

He turned to look at me. There was such life in his blue eyes. "I'm not as inexperienced as you might think."

_But I am_, I thought. _I'm inexperienced with these feelings. _But I nodded and said, "Prove it." And I meant it, in more than one sense. _Prove it to me, so I can know. Prove it to me, so I can prove it to myself, that you are the one._

I commanded five more discs to rise, and I made them spin faster and faster around the room, in unpredictable patterns. And then I stood back, to observe my work. I thought I had him beat. If he missed just once, that would be enough. He could still be a good student, and I could work to improve him. But by just missing one, he would prove the sudden changes in my heart to be such trite frivolities—but he was right. He knew what he was doing.

He steadied his control over the powerful gunblade, and to my surprise, aimed it forward with one hand and used the other to control another facet of magic. He lifted his free hand and cast Magnet. The five discs were drawn together by the pull of his spell, and in that moment, all of my affections were drawn toward him. And he winked at me. I wanted to say I imagined it, but the way he smiled afterward, I know. He winked at me, when he cast the shot that ignited them all. He knew he had sparked a passionate fire in my heart.

I had many previous students, but I knew there was something special about Leon. Maybe it was his natural talent and skill. Maybe it was because of how quick a learner he was. Maybe it was how he played it cool all the time and seemed to let all of the world's troubles just slide off him—because _nothing_ could hurt Leon. Maybe it was the way he would laugh when I tried telling him jokes.

He told me about Radiant Garden and the events of his world. I wish I could have been as open as he was, but I have kept to myself for so long. I never did know how to open to him, but I wanted to. _By Kingdom Hearts' light, did I want to_. But how could I expect him to truly understand me? Here I am, some old man, who keeps himself cooped up in a tower and animates brooms for fun. _How could he ever fall in love with me?_

In truth, I may never know how he truly felt about me. The clearest sign happened one night, after we had finished talking about Heartless and the Keyblade. We sat down by the fire. I was wearing one of my pointy blue hats and my robe, and he was wearing a thin tank top. I watched the fire's reflection on Leon's chiseled, toned arms. Then I looked up to his face, his smile, and his warm eyes.

He reached from where he sat and put his hand on my shoulder. He looked me in the eyes. _I about died_. I looked away. I pretended to be looking at the fire. I looked serious and contemplative, as usual, but I knew he saw through that. I felt his hand withdraw from my shoulder. _As if I thought it meant anything¸as if I thought he would keep it there longer, so I could feel the warmth from his hands… _

I heard movement from his side, and before I could turn to look over, he had his hands on my shoulders. He began to massage my shoulders. I imagined the sight in 3rd person—Leon behind me, likely smiling, as he pressed palms firmly against my shoulders.

"It must be tough, being here by yourself," he said, softly. It was like Aero to my ears—his voice was like the wind, and yet…

"Do you ever dream that someday you might leave this place? Did you ever live anywhere else? Did you travel the worlds? Did you have friends? Did you ever fall in love?" He laughed like a lion. It was a zesty, proud laugh. It was the laugh of a conqueror.

I resigned myself to this fate, and I answered quietly, "I was not always an old man."

He moved his hands down to my upper back, and as he worked out the old pains there, he also worked out the old pains in my heart. "I guess not," Leon answered. "But… There's nothing wrong with being an old man. I like you as you are now. Really…"

He sighed, and I felt his breath on my neck.

Then he drew away, and he sat back down. I looked at him, and if he would have turned to me, he would have saw my eyes pleading, "_please, don't stop_." But he had his eyes closed, and he hung his head low. I wanted to move over and put my outer robe over him, to comfort him, but I knew he did not need my warmth. That fire that burned within him needed nothing from me. Then I heard him say:

"We may never meet again, but we'll never forget each other."

That is why these nights are especially cold. And as I sit by the fire now, I am reminded of that hot young stud Leon, who captured my teachings as quickly as he captured my heart. He still occasionally sends me a letter, to tell him about how he is doing. Sometimes, he even asks how I'm doing, and I always respond the same. I always respond that I'm fine and that nothing ever changes for me, that I always have things to learn about the world and that I'm always engaged in important work, but truthfully, I _know_ he sees through it. When he writes back, "Glad to know you're still up to your old studies," I know that he really wants to tell me, "You know where to find me. My door is open."

When I think of him, why… I begin to wonder how much I really do know. There is so much to study…

But the one subject I want to study most, I deny myself access to.

But if only, if only—ah, what a cold person am I! And how foolish in the end! Leon, the fire of my heart, will move beyond me. I cannot control the flames; they burn what they may. All I know, and this I hold as a treasure most dear, is that he is the one to finally warm up my frigid composition. Oh, Leon, the seed of my affection… Remember me, my apprentice most dear, most loved.


End file.
